it’s been me against the world for so long.
i missed half of my life, fighting for myself.
do i have it all wrong?
i hope not.
i carry my brothers.
i help friends of friends………….
i try to be the last person you expected me to be.
i work ovetime, so i can take you out.
and i get shit on, like a common white-trash turd.

no, i won’t stop.
i can’t.
i’ve been through too hard a time to treat people like i know.
i think it’s time that we showed people the way to be treated.
the way we want to.
the way we HAVEN’T been.
we’ve all done some fucked up shit, but there’s always someone there to hold you up–even if you don’t want it.
for those of you who have been to prison……..
“i’m going to a place where the tough guys go, and they come out even tougher…”—–
it doesn’t have to be like that.
take the hard life, and be a better person for it.
take the cold heart you’ve earned, and use it to help others……
it’s a hard lesson that i’ve learned.
but it’s one that i will always remember.

just remember the smile that your mother gave you when you were nice to her.
remember the smile she gave you when you made her breakfast in bed, for no reason, or passed your driving test, or made the hockey team…
have pride in your kind…
treat them like you want to be treated.
i know i’ve said some hard things, and i still mean them.
i never forget what i have learned, the hard way.
i still hate some people.
i still have love for some.
i still carry a lot. and i get stronger every day.
i still have a LOT of hope for some. this is for you, R.
don’t let me down now—-this is the time when i need to lean on
someone………..
all i have is a hard soul, and a cold heart….
don’t travel my path.

NO More can yOu lie wheRe wE have been, and where LIfE has taken uS….

always i wondEr wher i haVe bEen, wheRe i am going, what i have Done, who i hAve fathered,

and who i have ignored. You are me.
thInking THat I’ve got Nothing, when i’ve done it all,broKe it all, withOut Flaw.
YOU wound me.
wiTHhout support, without lovE, with my bottle of hate.
with my strong aRm of deterIoration.
loSiNg all Of my lOves, and finding out that i havE new ones Is hard.
WAnting to love.
losiNg my experience, losing my pimp sTatus.
losing my life, losing my friends.
rick–This is fOr you.
no parent any longer.
you are going to do what you are going to do….
but i can’t be Supportive…..
i’ve sEEn you Beat yoUrself to deaTh for ages—yes, i was watching.
yoU are way too good of a perSon to lose it This wAY.
“old times” or not, you have FOllowed the path that i didn’t.
where my cRew went down that path, i had the strength not to.
i wish i could give you that strength now.

the last thing you need.
sorry, but i can’t get over this—-i’ve seen too Many people losE themselves because they

said the same thing that you said to me tonight.
you know what i am talking about.
so fuck it…..
of course i will still BE your Friend—but never again can i feel the same way that i Once

did. neveR again will i be willing to support you when i can’t trust that you’re not off

soMEwhere doIng whAt you did (granted, you said it’s a once a year thing….but i have no

way of knowing).
this is not a dis to you–i still love you, but the pain that you are putting your body

through is finding its way into Mine.
killing yourself is adding to my death-COunt. i’ve counted too Many bruthas so far—don’t

make me count another one.
hate me If you waNt to.
vandalize my shit if you want to.
but i still worry about the shit you do to your body.
i still worry what will happen when i am no lonGer around TO say “shit rick——-the

junk’ll kill you!”
i’ve had friends die from it–i have friends still on the run because of it.
haven’t seen my Crew in 6 years, because of it.
never wiLl AgaIn, unless it’s on the news when they get caught.they are killing Me.
you have no Idea how sTRongly i feel now aboUt friends doing hard drugs.
i can deal with people doing pot, acid, shrooMs—-but when it comes to C, H, and

CM…….i have to be extremelY defensive of everyone.
too much Pain it has caused.
too much Reflective introspectIon that killZ my mind.
too many lIves lost to it.
don’t make me lose you too.
you knoW I care about you, and i wiLL take care of you if i can….
but thiS is somEthing i don’t want to bE around.
the feelings it conjures up is too much.
it breaks me down and makes me crY like a little bitch.
i dOn’t like it at all.
all of this shit reminds me of that song by fUgees–only about 1 billion timeS tO the left.
tOdays “thiNg” gradually can, and sometimes does, become tomorrow’s thing…and the next.

and the next. and the year, and then the decade, and then the life…………
and then our deaths.
your physical death, and my emotional death of you.
tears of rememberance for you.
tears for the madness i now face.
tears for the life you have chosen.
i look to the sky now and cry.
i look to the sky now and cry.

not much can cheer me up now–i’ve sunk to a whole new level because of this.
BUrns my hearT, burNs my sOul.
burns my will.
The will that never dieS is starting tO limp.
seen toO much, experieNcEd too much.
caN’t trust wOmen anymore, can’t trUst men either.
can’t trust me to stay true.
can’t trust fate.
can always trust Greed to fuck me up tHough.
you know who you are, you fucking bitch——if i ever see you, i will punch you and your

parents right in the grille. i hate you with more hate than there has ever been in the

history of world. you with your cute little lies, Manipulating face, and your pussy.
cry to daddy—–i’ll fuck him up along with you.
i’m still waiting for my apology, the samE way i kNow andy M. is.
i’ve sTAyed stronger than anyone i ever knew though—-because i had to. i had something to

prove to my peers.
and after aLL of the lies i hear about–after all of the accusations, after all of the

second-hand news about what i have done….
i still do.
i’ll fuck everYtHing up for All of yoU.
SUCO—-fuck you.
heather–fuck you.
emily—fuck you.
jeN–fuck you.
erica—fuck you.
jessica–fuck you.
sTacIa–fuck you.
briaN—a BIG fuck you, you fat ass wanna be pimp. nothinG but a fake-ass piece of shit.
harry–a HUGE fuck you–how hard is it to tell the truth?

curt, randy, sam, lauren, corey, sean, al, jim—-you have my repect, and you always Will.

brothers to me.

i’m goin through some times lAteLy—some good, most are bad.
i’m also going through the bottles of whisKey like i do soda.
old crow is my friend TonigHt, tomoRrOw, i’m gonna have a long chat with my ol’ grandad.
yoU have fuckinG kilLed me.
bItter shit, just like liFE has made me.
when mom starts to bitch about tattoos before saying “hi jesse–good to see you

again!”—-it’s time to move on.

fucK my blood NOW—-I oNly have me.
my blood is all i will ever need.
i will make my own bloodline. i will chanGe my name, so no one in my former blood can find

THEm.
i wilL make them strOnger than all. i will giVe them my lIFe, and thEy wiLL be tough enough

to know that intelligence is all.

i am crushing you tonight—squeezing your liFe out of me tOnight.
you’ve made me what i am, and i hate you foR it.
You made me hate.
yOu made me sad.
yoU made me resentful.
you made me bitter.
you made me happy—then took it away.
you made me work—–when i came to move.
you made me fix your house when i had an hour.
you made me embarrassed.
you forced god down my throat—-i will NEVER forgive you for that.
you berated me.
you pushed me down.

but i’m gonna overcome…..i’m gonna laugh at you when you are 70, and still working while

i retire at 40.

i’m gonna drink beer on your graves now.
coulda been different—-it still can be.

don’t leave me like this—this is my invite.
to all of you now.

my invite to live clean, live with respect, and live like we should all live.
live to treat everyone like you are treated by them.
live to uplift, and learn—-not lie and steal.
live to carry someone when they are down, not step on them.
live to live, not live for money.

never lose the scars you have given me…..
live for each other, don’t live for yourself.

and NEVER LIE.

lying is the disease which kills me—as it kills you.
think about the last time you got lied to…….
and remember it the next time you even think of lying to someone.

you are breeding pain.
you are breeding contempt.
you are breeding death.
you are making me die.
you are making me live.

why did you have to do it?
i know it was “for old time’s sake” and all, but why?
i wish you knew how bad i felt right now, just thinking about you.
you hurt me.
you hurt everyone around you.
you are WAY too smart to do that short of shit.
listen to your real friends—the ones that care enough about you to want you to be happy.
the ones that want you to be healthy.
the ones that want to see you again.
the ones that want to see you like you, and i, know you are.

don’t do this, R.

you are killing more than me.
you are spawning December in me—–i am growing cold again………………

in keeeping with ryan…….
thinking on:: friends that i’ve lost to things out of my control.
listening to :: river runs red by life of agony
realizing that:: i am that man that will achieve more than your parents ever dreamed possible. and have the tattoos and scars to prove it.
and to find out what is love—
and to find out where god is—since it seems to surface everwhere….

# straight from my heart—–
# giving you all that i have left now……..
# give me more reason to continue.
# give me a reason to be content.
# give me what i need…………….
fuck this
fuck that
fuck them

my life has shown me.
my life has shown me what i am.
what i have become.
what i can’t escape.
what i have to accept.
what i have to overcome.
that i have to face the day ahead of me.
that i have to despise what i see.
that i forgot when i went wrong.
that life is just a river of tears to me.
i’m still waiting for it.
i’m still waiting for you.
i’m still waiting for them to come.
i’m still waiting for certain leaders to step down.
i’m still waiting for their children to go to jail.
so they can join me in prison.
i’m still waiting for hope to find me.
i’m still hoping that there is something besides pain for me.
i’m still waiting for the day when i can not be fucked up.
i want it all back—–i want to be human, i want to survive, i want to feel alive again.
life has cheated me—-so i have to be hard.
i have to be hard to survive.
when did the time come that it was too hard for us to cry?
when did it happen that i had no one to talk to?
killing everyone.
killing me.
killing you—-like the bitch that you are.
fuck you—and all of your lies and fake promises.
sid—you called me what i am.
you know me better than anyone——described me better than my mother.
so tell me—where is it?
where is it all gone to?
tell me. make me fragile again.
make me depend on others again.
sometimes it feels like i’m all alone in this world.
sometimes i just wanna go and weep over the lost brothers—–all of you can rest now, i carry all of you.
even the ones that are living still—-i still wait for you to get off of the junk that has you enslaved.
is this another wasted night?
is this another wasted life?
is this another wasted post?
is this another waste of hate?
is this another waste of blood?
are we a waste of human blood?
are we a waste of the human race?

please me. abuse me.
are we just a world of shit, and world of lies, a world that has gone insane with the gap?
i don’t know anymore.
all i have are questions.
all i get are more questions.
all i need is my lovers.
i have two that i love now—–and only 1 is human.
she knows me better than i do.
the other knows how i feel, and treats me accordingly.

i kill to see both of them—-they are close to each other, and even closer to me.

fragility is a virtue—-and so is the working man.
i’m working to be fragile everyday.
treat me as you would your buddy who is tired.
treat me like the kid you never liked.
treat me like your asshole brother-in-law.
or your sister-in-law.
show me the nihilism that has evolved into humanity.
show me the arthritis that is speech now—–talk to me, and say “like” and “you know” for me.
tell me you do drugs–tell me you shoot up.
give me someone to cry for–give me someone to worry about….
all my old brothers have lost me—they’ve lost themselves to narcotics.
the big H, and the big C has killed them.
they have killed a big part of me, through them.
give me a new whiskey—i need some liquid pain-killer now.
i need.
i hurt.
i survive.
i hate.
i love.
i am fragile.
i need you………….
talk to me, you know who you are.

fuckin a…
i find myself saying that a lot lately.
for instance–i am at the folks house for today, in preparation for another grunt job interview (let’s not argue about whether i overqualified or not — to those people that know me).
first thing that happens when i walk in the door, wearing my wrinkle-free haggars, a t-shirt, and a fleece is my folks proclaiming what a shitbag i am.
telling me to shave my sideburns to a respectable length.
what is a respectable length, i ask?
“not down to your jawline!! and get rid of your chops!”
thanks mom–love you too.
“are you going to wear those clothes to your (grunt job lifting things, and moving things, and sweating a lot) interview?”
jesus christ mom—i just walked in the fucking door, the thing is tomorrow anyways—give me a break.
“you should wear a nice shirt to this thing–you never know what the interviewer will think–and don’t curse god, he is your saviour too!”
yeah, yeah, i heard it all before and i’m still none to keen on THAT idea.
well, since all i have is a polo shirt, my fleece (which i have to wear to hide my tattoo sleeves), there really is nothing else i can wear now, is there?
now is when pop breaks out his dress shirts, with no tie, which he then proceeds to tell me to leave the top button unbuttoned.
right now, you can call me a “what the fuck” junkie.
what the fuck—-all around me by now.
as if it isn’t bad enough that i have to even work these jobs anymore, i have to have my folks tell me what to fuckin wear.
so, pop brings this bugly (butt-ugly) dress shirt, tells me to try it on. so i do—and, as with most shirts you get at the mall, it doesn’t fit. my goddamned neck is spilling over the sides of it.
so i tell them that it won’t fit, if i feel like breathing (much less look like a normal person), and they say “i don’t care–wear what you want and don’t get the job…”
fuckin A
i don’t think i’m gonna go now–now that my folks have put this much pressure on me to dress like a pimp to get a job where i sweat a lot, rip clothes, and get dirty at.
fuckin idiots.
“i’ve done interviews before, and appearance is the first thing i look for in an applicant!”
how many grunt interviews have you done?
“none”
THEN SHUT YOUR FUCKING SPERM HOLE, SHITHEAD–GO BACK TO THE MALL YOU CAME FROM
christ–when can i get a fucking break?
i thought that your folks were supposed to have your back—not true anymore.
what a sucker i was for even thinking of living here for a few months, while i gained the money to make my trip……

comin to party es.
and it will be awesome.

if i wanted nagging non-stop, i’d get a wife, or i’d listen to the gap crowd telling me what’s “cool”
or i’d listen to the “law” that is “in charge” of me.

this shit is outta hand now—when you can’t even rely on your folks to say shit like “hey jesse, everything’s gonna work out OK—hell, it worked out fine in SOcal”
i just don’t get it anymore—here i am, qualified to make more money in a year than they ever were, and i still can’t get no respect.
i’m gettin job offers for next year, upwards of 40k, and my own flesh won’t even give me support–just frags from the nagging grenade.

but they’re never too proud to have me fix their crappy network, or fix their SHITTY winblows boxes. yeh, i said winblows–cause they do.

if anyone can explain this shit to me—explain away.
i can understand strangers being complete assholes and idiots, but not my blood.
blood is supposed to have a bond of similarity–not a bond of asshair.

i woke up today an cried–
not for me, but for everyone else.

i cried for the gap not doing good business.
i cried for abercrombie shutting down.
i cried for no new N’SYNC album in a year.
i cried for never seeing britney spears in a porno.

i have never seen your fluid body—–but i am still in love with it.
pictures can never do you justice.
and i miss it.
you will know how much i have missed it.
sometime soon.
i promise this to you……

i saw Perl harbour.
sat with a row of fellow veterans.
we all cried–wasn’t as intense as private ryan, but the emotion was still there.
yes, i was that man in the crowd who said “Ooh-Rah” when FDR said “…tell it to the Marines”

long story short—we cried, exchanged stories, shook hands and walked out tall.
taller than anyone else in there.
taller than GW
taller than anyone who will never know what it’s like.
where the fuck were you?
there is a brotherhood that many of you will never know about.
a brotherhood that will never die.
a brotherhood that will never fail to produce tears and pain.

lies produce me pain.
i’m in pain right now.
there has to be something that i missed.

i hate my crowd—-and SEG,
i am hard on myself because i live a hard life.

i get lied to non-stop.
to my face.
like rodney, i get no respect.
but for 1 person.

dammit—–i thought i was better than that.
we’re all wrong.

cheers for all—-
we all need a good GIN.

i just want to start out by saying that rain sux my puckered asshole.
all the NYkers in the house know what i’m saying.
i am wetter than a whore who needs $$$$.

secondly, gin is not only for getting drunk—
it is a magical elixir.
much like perl, it is automagical.

and rejection. automagical.
do i always have to lie to people?
why can i not be honest, and have it be right?
whenever i try to get my dick wet, i am constantly reminded
that i have to lie about myself.
i have to be the rich guy, the smart guy, the guy that will carry the girl…..
i thought that the women’s movement was to get away from that.
make up a mind.
make up my mind.

even though i know there is a sun for me in the old hood,
i am still hurt by rejection.
everytime i have the heart (or drunken lack of inhibitions), OIswego
gets shitupon.

i miss the old days, when everyone was as brutally honest as me.
when people didn’t murder my heart.
if it was a sport, i’d be the first pick in the draft.

then there were none……
except me.
and my fistfull of sadness……………………….

i woke today like i do everyday—-with cold sweat and boner.
when i remembered that i had nobody to share it with, i woke up
wiped my brow and inhaled stale bread before work.

easy day today–12 hours in the sun.
you can call me lobster-boy from now on.
i love being an Irish fuck, but we hate the sun when it burns us (which is always).
here is where i pose a question for anybody smarter than me:
when is it acceptable to treat someone like shit when you are “worried” about them?

does that not defeat the whole fucking purpose of worrying?
fucking idiots that surround me, smother me with illness.
lots have happened to me in the last week—too much to name,
except to say that i am overwhelimingly upset at the past week.
i want to kill it, then stomp on its mother.

shoulda had an abortion, while the abortion-gettin was good.

they should make a def squad of folks who are sick of pro-lifers.
i’d call them the pro-life killin squad. we all know that a squad of any sort is the shit.

wouldn’t that just fuck up the right-wing?
“killing is wrong!! it says so in (insert book of lies here)”
what i wouldn’t give to have been the kid whose parents watched jimmy swaggert when he broke down and admitted fucking that whore.
i would’ve jumped up—threw my book of lies in the fireplace, and danced around with horns on my head.

as it was, the church i went to had their own little crisis—it was great.
pastor was fucking one of the deacons wives after church, when he was at some church meeting.

way to go, role model!!

i feel like the world is trying to sucker me into choosing sides.
“join our side, we fight for the right of the family!”
i don’t have a family—i have a fist of determination.
“join our side, we are for the right of the individual!!”
if you are an individual, why are you in a group? jerkass.
“join our team–we will save the planet!”
get the fuck away from me before i take your love beads and shove them up your ass.
‘join the hippies’ —my god would love that one.
hell–maybe i should do that, just so i could bring em down from the inside.

i joined a few teams before—and look at me now.
bitter, cold, pissed-off, and a fistful of rage batting second.
the side i choose is my own.
i’ve seen too much to do anything else.
i’ve done too much to change my way, although a partner in mayhem would be acceptable.
mayhem is where i am a god.
i should invent this place called “mayhem: population -me”

so many thoughts to throw up, but i never have the time that i would like.
maybe i will give you all some more diarrhea tonight, after i drown myself, and my inhibitions.
alcohol is my catalyst to greatness.
want to see what a good idea looks like?

cheers.

nohearts for me.
i hear lies constantly. i work more than you live.
i miss the sun. i miss the disorientation of life now.

i play sam with all my heart, but all that comes out of her is the blues. more tragic than buddy holly.

save me, reader.
cut my weeds for me—-my heart is covered more than wrigley field on a good day.
i miss the old hardcore days….where it was about the bands.
i miss the days when you got knocked down in the pit, and 10 fellas picked you up and patted you on the back.
i miss the days of billy idol.
i miss van halen.
with a vengeance i strike reality.
i am the abstract reality that has yet to be discovered.
my brain is being killed—slowly, but surely.
i have to get out. and soon.
i miss my love. i miss my friend, the only one who will listen (semi);
you know who you are ES. yes you.
OIswego is hurting these days. i wish i had more time to create a drug that could make me function without anxiety.
i hurt.
my neck hurts.
my air hurts.
my lungs gasp for breath—–but all i breath is bullshit.
i am none.
i am all.
i am dead—-but we don’t know it yet.
please me, feel my life, carry me through, lift me above what i hate.
turn the wind off—it is chilling my soul.
my work is killing me–the shit is not going to last.
Ryan asked me for a BIO—–i was ashamed that i had none…….i said what was on my mind for one.
i still have none.
all there is—-is me, OI, my brothers, whiskey, and SR.
self-respect.
weakness is not only emotion or muscle.
weakness is me.
strength is me.

arcane shit is what i know. it hides me from you.
but no matter how archaic i am, i feel watched by all of you.
send me a line—keep me going.
keep my brain from rotting at my jerk of a job.
i have been overused.
am i burnt out?
no.
i have books of pain to write to you.
so you will never have to.
my brain melts as i wait for her to come back———-
the evil waits within, but i doubt she will show anytime soon.
for those of you near Ithaca NY——–hook it up, i need some.

can you feel the agony?
i still feel it, just like everyday of my life.
i never want it to end either.
never again will i trust—–because i waste my time.

#####################################################################

loa
#####################################################################

“just give me one good reason to live—i’ll give you three to die.”

i miss everyone already.

i’m a raging lunatic this morning..or night.
however you want to call it.

rejection is cold, no matter how you look at it. i thank god for some people around here that will listen to me, and not dismiss me.

you know who you are, and you know i’ll get you back.

painful memories plague me.
my past is the catalyst which hurts me. maybe it is that which makes me what i am today.
maybe it is that which makes me stand out.
maybe it is that which makes me hurt so much.
i am syringed with pain tonight (morning?).
and don’t forget who you know….
i’ve taken all of your addiction, all of your weak lies, all of your fucked up rationale, all of you that say “i see where you’re coming from”……..you don’t.
no one knows where i am coming from.
no one know what i have seen, what i go through for you.
no one believes in “i’ve gone through it, so i will be a better person for it” anymore.
no one thinks “he’s bleeding for me, so i will for him”, or “his shoulders have always been able to hold me up, so will do it for him” anymore.
i’m so critical, and raging right now that i could care less about linguistics/semantics/spelling right now.

i got the doublebass HC kicking.

my whole body is shaking right now—-and i cannot stop it……
it’s never gonna stop again.
i’ve learned who my friends are tonight— and i have few that actually care enough to actually talk to me about this shit.
actually, one—and you know her.

how i suffer in my selfeshness…….
i’m never going to sleep again—because when i do, i might miss someone who cares.
i’m still waiting for it.
i’m about 3 seconds from grabbing sam and waking the whole hood at 630 AM in NY.
nothing like waking up to some drunken depressed asshole with a neck as big as a leg playing raucous music louder than jesus.
i cry for me tonight.
sam has been with me longer than anyone cept mom….and i still love her. the only girl i can truly love—she will never reject me.
i take care of her, i clean her, i polish her, i tattoo her like i do myself, i tattoo her board like i do my soul.

sometimes i wish i was like ed—i wish i had the strength to do it.

sometimes i like to pretend that i can live like a normal testosterone-filled man.
sometimes it’s fun to think that people around me will actaully care.
sometimes i wonder what they would think if they could ever see the true OIswego.
they would break down, like i am about to do.

don’t envy me.
and i don’t regret it either.
this is jesse.
this is jesse’s emotional spew.
this is jesse’s lack of emotional ability to speak
is this jesse’s emotional selfishness?

never been more down than i am tonight—-
tonight i forget everything that i have ever known.
never again treat someone the way i want to be, because they don’t.
i’m not giving an inch until i get a meter.
stomp 442 of asshole.

goodbye to everyone.
goodbye to respect.
goodbye to sexuality.
goodbye to what i wanted to become…..hello to what i am.
goodbye to shame.
goodbye to running away.
goodbye to being the “nice guy” to get laid.
goodbye to lying to myself.
goodbye to lying to you.
goodbye to lying to me.
goodbye to what i know.
goodbye to my memories.
goodbye to what you want me to be.
goodbye to everyone.

part: more
to follow when i can type again.

time to hold myself, and hold sam.

sorry for breaking your head….
i’ve been working on it lately.
it’s hurts being the ace of spades sometimes…..
please me, peace me…

how do you feel jesse? how do you feel OIswego?
honestly, i feel like dying. i have no one to talk to.
this is my only non-alcoholic outlet.

people talk about dead relatives, dead friends..
what happens when you are dead?

i miss lauren — i miss the verbal diarhea we have had.
i miss someone who will listen, and not judge.
i miss someone whom i don’t have to drag through life thus far.

my arm just “healed” this week, after 1.5 years of shattered.
i’ve been pissing off the hood with my hardcore guitar. sam.
she is my baby.
she will waste your town tonight, as long as i direct her NYHC.

don’t give me your target, give me your fuse…i’ll light it baby.
i’m so lit, i can burn Canada tonight.
the whole shitty nation of canux.
i’m never giving in.
i’m gonna watch it all die before i do.

give me everything i deserve, everything i want, everything i need.
love is a one-sided blade — and i get stabbed every time.
is it because i am blunt?
or am i just that much of an asshole?

you tell me.

i leave now—-but i leave you with some blood for blood…
“cause my mind is fucked and my heart is cold…i’m a timebomb-ticking motherfucker.”
give me hope, give America hope, give your sisters/brothers hope.
“i’m filled with rage, filled with distress….i want to destroy”